


The Shot

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Drinking, M/M, Misunderstanding, celebration, photographer percival, strangers in a bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 08:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: Percival was drinking in a bar to celebrate taking the best shot in his life. What were the odds of a stranger sitting down next to him to celebrate exactly the same thing?





	The Shot

Beer tasted so much better with a moderate amount of cheer. Percival emptied his glass and sat back with a pleased sigh. The chair next to him had just been emptied and he enjoyed the elbowroom he’d been granted. It wasn’t often he let quite so loose but he was certain he had just reached the highlight of his career. He couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed when someone knocked into him as they sat on the recently vacated stool. Percival glanced over assessingly. Coppery hair, peacock blue coat, slightly out of breath and fumbling with money – a foreigner, probably lost. The brown case by his feet screamed of well-travelled if a bit bumbling outsider.

“Allow me,” Percival cut into the man’s rummaging through his wallet. He signalled for the bartender who obligingly took the new arrival’s order along with Percival’s money.

“It’s very generous of you,” the man turned to him with a lopsided smile, “are you always this lavish?”

“Just today, I’m celebrating! Percival, by the way,” he introduced himself and stuck out his hand. It was shaken and Newt introduced himself.

“I’ll drink to your celebration then. What’s the achievement?”

Percival took a sip of his new drink and pulled himself up, chest puffed out in pride.

“I took the best shot in my life today.”

The series of emotions that flitted over Newt’s face were too quick to really interpret but Percival was sure he caught confusion, worry, disbelief and then understating and hope amongst other things.

“No way,” Newt’s tone dropped to something conspiratorial, “me too.”

The admission make Percival’s eyebrows run up towards his hairline.

“You’re kidding, then we shall celebrate together!”

“It’s not something I usually celebrate but it was tricky to get this shot, so okay,” Newt agreed and raised his glass. Percival knocked his against it.

“To taking the best shots of our lives!”

They drank deeply and when the glasses were back on the bar Percival turned to face Newt a little more.

“Tell me more about your shot.”

“Well,” Newt glanced around nervously, “I was up on the rooftop.”

Percival held his hand up in surprise.

“Wait, rooftop? That’s some shot.”

“I’ve done worse locations,” Newt shrugged. “And the lighting was all off.”

“I do hate it when that happens, how did you compensate?”

Newt looked at him as though he had gone insane.

“I moved so it was a little more shaded.”

“Old school,” Percival nodded sagely, his blood thrummed with good beer and good company, “I like it.”

“It was through a window so I had to be careful, you know how they scatter.”

Next to him Percival nodded again and hummed in agreement. The fact Newt had taken a shot through a window was a little out of his own stylistic preferences. He never could get the lighting to work for him. When he tuned back in Newt was speaking again.

“…hate it when children are involved.”

It made Percival blink at and he tried to figure out what he’d missed. Instead of worrying too much he opted to offer his own opinion.

“I’m not fond of children. I did shoot a horse once which was great fun.

Again Newt blinked at him in puzzlement and took a drink while he mulled things over.

“A horse?” he asked finally.

“Yeah, client was utterly mad about it. Said something about a rival and their horse looking better.”

“So you shot their horse because the rival’s one looked better?”

“I made it look good don’t worry. I don’t think that client has had any problems since.”

Newt closed his eyes for a minute then shook his head as though he’d heard the strangest thing.

“Tell me more about your shot though. What made it so great?” Percival encouraged him to keep talking to erase any kind of awkwardness.

“There’s not a lot else to say. He came into the room, I took the shot. Minimal amount of blood, no fuss and off I went.”

“Blood?” Percival couldn’t believe his ears. “That’s a little more avant garde than I like to have things. I’m more of a traditionalist myself.”

Newt stared at him and slowly took a drink again. The distance between them grew and Percival scrambled to think what he’d said to put the man off so suddenly. All the beer in his system wasn’t helping though so his addled mind could only think of his own celebration.

“Shall I tell you about mine?” he offered and after a moment of internal debate Newt nodded.

“I was just walking along minding my own business when I came across the most beautiful flower arrangement, a wisteria intertwined with honeysuckle. Both in full bloom, a glorious purple against white.”

“Nice setting,” Newt quipped but otherwise listened to Percival with a guarded expression.

“It was stunning. And then this bumblebee came along, little legs laden down with masses of pollen. It landed on a honeysuckle bloom for a rest, just sat there. So I thought I’d shoot it.”

“You shot a bee?”

“We can’t all be new age artists taking pictures of people through windows with blood splattered around for dramatic effect,” Percival groused. “Anyway, I got the perfect picture of the bee on the white plant, the wisteria like a cascade of delicate purple waterfall faded in the background. The contrast of hard colours up front with the subtleties of the background was perfect. If I don’t get Nature Photographer of the year I will be gobsmacked.”

Newt sat and took huge gulps of his beer to quickly empty his glass.

“When you said you took a shot, you meant you took a photo of a bee,” he sounded incredulous as he gathered his case.

“Yeah, what else? Why? Who did you shoot?”

“Gellert Grindelwald.”

Silence reigned between them as Newt tried to wriggle out of Percival’s grasp that had appeared on his arm to stay him. On the TV above the bar the news cut into the football match that had been playing. The body of Gellert Grindelwald had just been found, shot dead in his home. Newt gave Percival a sheepish smile and pulled his arm free.

“Got to go. Lovely to meet you. Goodbye.”

“Wait!” Percival called after him and Newt stumbled to a halt. “Let me come with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Back in full fic swing on here and tumblr - @ladyoftheshrimp


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